Ayan woke up with a start. He had been playing Pokémon Sword and Shield on his Nintendo Switch, on his rooftop on a very cloudy night beating the heat of the weather. Little did he know that the distant sounds of thunder would come back to haunt him that night.
The rain didn't even start yet when he heard a loud thunder sound and in the same moment he felt an immense pain and burn feeling in his body, and proceeded to lose consciousness. Now when he woke up he found himself in a much younger body, a room that he didn't have any memory about and loads of questions.
The ceiling above him was an unfamiliar pale cream, patterned with tiny glow-in-the-dark stars that flickered faintly in the dim morning light. Ayan blinked, confused. His body felt lighter, smaller—like he'd shrunk a few years overnight. Sitting up, he scanned the room.
It looked like a teenager's bedroom, but not his. Posters of various Pokémon adorned the walls—Lucario mid-strike, a Gardevoir casting Moonblast, and a Charizard looming over a battlefield in dramatic flair. A digital calendar flickered beside the bed, displaying the date: 7th July, 2010.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Something felt off. Not just the decor. His hands seemed much slender than he had last seen. Then it hit him. The mirror. He stumbled toward it.
The reflection staring back was familiar—but not quite. He looked younger. Maybe fifteen. Definitely not someone who just yesterday went to work like any other IT sector worker.
What is happening?
Like a dam cracking open, memories not his own poured in—flashes of birthday parties with Pokémon-shaped cakes, a summer camp spent learning how to not antagonize a swarm of Beedrill, and a near-disastrous incident involving a mischievous Aipom and a bottle of ketchup. These weren't just dreams or fragments. They felt real. Emotions, muscle memory, people… all belonging to a different Ayan.
The memories of the other Ayan.
Sweat beaded his brow as he gripped the desk for support. His breathing steadied only after a few minutes. Then realization settled over him, cold and staggering. This was no hallucination. He hadn't just dreamed himself into a younger body. He had replaced someone—another Ayan whose life had been abruptly cut short.
But this world… it was different. Vastly different.
Through the now-merged memories, he understood that this world wasn't just a fantasy turned real. Pokémon had existed here for over 2,000 years. Their emergence was etched into the roots of civilization. Empires had risen and fallen alongside Pokémon. Entire cities were powered with the help of Electric-types. Medicine was routinely aided by Chansey and Audino, both for humans and Pokémon. Even wars and battles, were fought with trainers commanding battalions of Pokémon.
And yet… some things remained the same. He still had the same parents. Same last name. Same birthday. But everything else—culture, technology, even history—had Pokémon woven into the fabric of daily life.
Ayan slowly sank into the chair beside the desk, heart still racing.
"I… I've transmigrated," he whispered to himself. "Into a parallel world. A Pokémon world."
-----
"Oh yeah! This is like a dream come true." Ayan thought. A world where Pokémon was real, was like someone whispering words filled with love on his ears. Though he was a huge anime and Pokémon fan in his previous life he had never thought about seeing any of the fantasy things in real.
Still dazed but riding the high of that revelation, Ayan stood up. He crossed the room, hesitated at the door, then turned the knob and stepped out. The hallway was well-lit and surprisingly wide. Framed family photos lined the wall, and a faint aroma of something savory drifted in the air. As he walked down toward the source, he noticed how polished everything looked—clean tiles, patterned carpets, modern lights with a soft glow that felt oddly luxurious.
This place is huge, he thought. Bigger than the compact three-bedroom flat he'd grown up in back in his old world. This was more than just middle-class comfort. He reached the end of the hallway and turned toward the kitchen—and froze.
There, standing beside the stove, was his mother. Same gentle face, a little younger, humming to herself. But what caught his breath was the hulking figure next to her.
A Machoke—broad-shouldered, skin the color of concrete, wearing a standard black apron that was comically small on its frame—was calmly stirring something in a massive pot, moving with practiced ease.
Ayan blinked.
Hard.
Behind him, a gentle rustling sound drew his attention. A Leavanny, green and graceful, glided across the living room floor, sweeping with a leaf-crafted broom, antennae swaying with rhythm. It chirped softly to itself as it worked, its leaf-arms moving in elegant, almost dance-like patterns.
His heart pounded—not with fear, but an overwhelming mix of awe, nostalgia, and disbelief. These weren't computer-generated sprites. These weren't plushies or animation cells. These were real Pokémon. Living. Breathing. Working like they belonged here. Like this was normal.
Because here—it was.
Machoke noticed him first. The hulking Pokémon turned with a grin and gave a friendly thumbs-up, followed by a low, rumbling "Ma-cho!"
"Oh, finally awake? You must've been tired, sleeping in all afternoon like that. It's the weekend, though, so it's okay." His mother turned around and said.
"Y-yeah… I guess I needed it."
He glanced again at Machoke, then at Leavanny, whose tidy little sweeping had moved on to aligning the cushions on the couch with uncanny precision. He didn't need to ask what was going on. His father in his previous life was a contractor/real estate agent.
Not a highly successful one, but good enough to lead life among the upper middle class, and his mother was a SAHM (stay-at-home mom). His father in this life was also in a business related to construction of homes. But it was in a much broader sense.
He had 4 Machoke and 1 Machamp. These 5 Pokémon allowed him to work in construction and earn huge amounts of money. One had to remember that Pokémon of this world weren't exactly like the ones in anime where Ash would survive attacks even from a Legendary Pokémon. This world was much more brutal, and thus the power of one Machoke was enough to take on the work of 3 or 4 men easily.
Each special and normal attack of Pokémon was deadly to human beings, and thus one had to be careful while handling them. Death by even accidental attacks of Pokémon also happens. And even status moves like Sunny Day were quite effective in changing the weather of a place.
The more powerful a Pokémon was, the more powerful the moves were. In other words, Pokémon were the Gods and humans were in control of the Gods. Well, at least pseudo-Gods, since there hasn't ever been the story that a human had caught any legendary Pokémon.
It reminded Ayan of the movie Detective Pikachu. But reality was much more beautiful and probably more tragic than that movie was. But all that mattered now was Ayan was now in a parallel world of Pokémon and he was very happy for it.